Catventures
by Bartkartoffeln
Summary: To buy some Ritzy Bitz for her cat, she enters the pet shop in the dead of night. But after her encounter with the very ominous cashier, nothing will be like it was before. At least nothing that has to do with cats.
1. Ritzy Bitz Adventure

These little stories from the life of the cat owner are inspired by real stories about cats, but also invented and mixed with Neko Atsume elements. I hope you will enjoy!

* * *

She crossed the street, hand in her pockets. It was the middle of the night, and the wind picked up its pace, tugging at her punk jacket and her hair. Unfazed by the wind's attempt to hold her back, she shouldered up the door to the pet store.  
Except for the cashier, no one was inside. It smelled of tuna and rabbit hay. In a corner, mice shuffled through tiny tunnels in a huge cage.

Exploring the shelves, she finally found it: A big pack of Ritzy Bitz. Her cats loved Ritzy Bitz. She snatched a Buy Two Pay One pack from the shelf, turned, headed for the counter. The cashier smiled their usual smile. A little nice, a little eerie. Their long nails scratched over the keys of the old cash register.  
For a moment, the eyes of the cashier seemed to reflect the light in an odd way.  
Scratch. Scratch.

She stared at the cashier's face. Their nose looked strangely flat from this angle.  
"That would be six dollar and twenty."  
The voice was husky, rolling the r in a disturbingly purring fashion.  
"Sure," she answered, handing over a ten dollar note. The cashier took it delicately between two long nails and smiled, showing beautiful white teeth and very prominent canines.  
She took a step back, all her senses prickling. Her eyes met the teasing gaze of the cashier. Slim pupils set into yellow irises watched her with what seemed evil amusement. Taking her cans of Ritzy Bitz swiftly from the counter, she turned and made for the exit.

"Keep the change," she stammered, pulling open the door just so much she could squeeze through.  
She ran over the street, breathless. When she reached the other side, she turned and stole a glance back at the pet store.  
Her heart hammered in her chest. Surely, she just imagined things.  
Yes. That must be it.


	2. Cat Talk

The cat seemed oddly active today. Befitting for her name, she climbed every shelf, gracefully jumped from chairs and explored the hills that were desks and couches in most agitated manner. Ever since she bought her that Ritzy Bitz from the creepy Pet Shop cashier, her cat seemed to look at her with different eyes. Wise, strange and deep eyes. She shook her head and looked into the bowl of cat food she was about to put down on the floor. It didn't smell different than usual. And didn't look different, either.

"Give me that bowl, now, human." Words with a distinct, underlying purr. Ninja stared at her, all royal pose and impatience.

She blinked, furiously, at the cat. "What?" was the only thing she could manage, followed by popping her pinkie in her left ear and rubbing as if she'd heard things.

Ninja did a looong, moaaaning sigh. "Put the bowl down. I am hungry."

Flabbergasted, she obeyed and slowly set the little bowl with Ritzy Bitz on the kitchen floor.

"Why thank you. It is fortunate you are not a waitress. Doubtless, your customers would starve."

Spluttering a breathless 'eep'-sound, she almost fled from the kitchen. Freaked out was a state of mind absolutely unknown to her. She was cool. She was tough. She didn't freak out!

Not over some eerie cashier and a talking cat. No. Most certainly no-

Pressing her lips into a tight, thin line, she swore under her breath.

"Great. I'm getting crazy."


	3. Worship Me

She didn't tell him yet what had happened, mostly because she still hoped it all had been a mere daydream. An illusion. Her imagination. Stress. Something one could actually **explain** with the power of one's brain **.**  
Ninja chose exactly that moment to hop onto her arm. The cat's expression could be only described as 'not amused'.

Ignoring the furry house diva with all her might, she set to answer another chat post, when a paw shoved against her fingers. The incomprehensible string of letters on the screen of course was sent before she could delete it.  
She glared at Ninja. "Stop that!"

The cat tilted her head - and hammered both paws onto the screen until her owner finally lifted the hand holding the phone into the air, as far away from the devilish paws as possible.  
"Ninja, damnit. Go play somewhere else, really!"  
She swished her tail majestically, licking her paw, then: "Put that away, human. Worship me, not that smooth glass-light."

The cat talked. Again.  
She squinted her eyes at the creature, her hand still clenching the phone like it was the last straw that connected her to sanity.  
Ninja stared back.  
 _Swish, swish._

She sighed, finally. "Fine. FINE!"  
Putting the phone on the table, she wove her fingers through the long cat fur and covered the elegant body with grumpy strokes.  
"See, that was easy. Good human," Ninja purred most satisfied.  
The human only whimpered helplessly.


	4. Shadow

"You don't have any allergies to cats, do you? Do you like cats?" the friendly young doctor's receptionist asked.

She twitched a little, hearing that question. "Is that important?" She wondered if the woman knew anything. She hadn't mentioned the exact reason why she wanted to see the psychotherapist. And now, this friendly receptionist asked about cats, of all things.

"We have a cat strolling about the waiting room. He's a regular visitor of our office. Dr. Shroom likes to joke about how Shadow probably needs a therapy, too, so we let the poor cat stay here if he decides to visit."

The cat owner only nodded numbly. Of course. Cats wherever she went. Her life seemed to become odder every day, but if the doc would even let stray cats stay for therapy, maybe this was the best place to go for _her_ problem. After filling out the usual forms, she clutched her bag and went to sit down in the waiting room. Two other patients perched on their chairs, reading through old magazines.

Both of them gave an annoyed grunt, when the ash-black cat in the toy corner started wailing. And oh god, how he wailed! Like the Apocalypse was near.  
She sighed deeply. Opening her bag, she took out an orange stress reliever, kneading it in her hand absent minded. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back against the wall and only concentrated on the soft, squishy material between her fingers.

The wailing stopped. "Can I have that?" a far too tiny voice whispered.  
Cracking open one eye, she noticed with unease that Shadow was staring at her with big eyes. He stretched, making his body long and bracing himself with one paw against her knee, while the other tried to touch the orange stress reliever.

 _Are you effing serious?_ , she thought. The other two patients heeded her no attention so far. "You want the stress reliever?" the cat owner asked shakily.

"Yes!" Shadow answered eagerly, his tail swishing about and his eyes filling with determination and a passionate yearning.

She inhaled deeply, once, twice. Maybe, if she just gave away that stupid orange thingy, the cat would leave her alone. So she could go on pretending she was not mad. Except, that was why she was here, wasn't it? Damnit.

Shadow started to wail again. Obviously, she didn't decide fast enough for him.  
Hastily, she put the stress reliever down on the floor. "Yes, here, take it. Keep it. Just please stop that distressing mewling, will you?"

The ash-black cat meowed in delight. Gingerly, Shadow took the stress reliever between his teeth and carried it to the corner, where he played silently. For hours. (It felt like hours)

When she was called to see the doc, however, he darted forward, placing the skin of a cicada at her feet. "It's a gift. You must keep it. It's for making me happy," he said.  
Numbly, she picked up the skin with a mumbled 'Thank you'.

She had a feeling, she really would have to keep this very uncommon gift.


	5. The Spooky Visitor

There was the faint sound of scratching. And she would have liked to ignore it, but the scratching was a constant, annoying, nerve-grinding, persistent noise. For days now, every night the disturbing symphony kept her awake well past midnight.

 _Scratch, scratch._

Frustrated, she turned and shoved a pillow over her head, but the sound was so catchy, she imagined hearing it still. With a growl, the cat owner got out of bed and stared down the wall from where the noise robbed her of her sleep. She picked up a two by four wooden board and shoved her feet into a pair of slippers, before silently leaving the room. How her partner could sleep through all of this was a riddle.  
Determined to get rid of the nightly visitor once and for all, she circled the house.  
 _Scratch, scratch._

The cat owner lifted her wooden board, together with all the bravery she could muster, and jumped around the corner with a fierce yell. "Fuck o-... ff?" A gray tortoiseshell cat hissed at her, the bright eyes catching some stray moonlight like reflectors on a bicycle. She looked at the intruder, board still lifted, trying to wrap her head around the fact that it was once again a cat interfered with her quiet life.  
The tortoiseshell stopped hissing and licked its paw, the eyes fixating the wooden board intensely. She sighed and lowered her arm, pinching her nose with the free hand.

"Could you stop scratching at my wall, now? It is unnerving and annoying and I. Want. To. Sleep."  
"Of course. If you have brought replacement?" The cat sounded very wary and it almost seemed as if it would dash away any second now.

She blinked. Replacement? Like what? Did she look as if she ran around with scratching posts or what? Sure thing. That was her everynight equipment, a scratching log. Just in case another spooky visitor appeared and wanted some claw sharpening. Yup.

The tortoiseshell stared at her, hissing again. Finally it dawned on the cat owner, that the bright eyes were locked onto the board in her hands. She groaned. "Oh. You want the board. Fine, you can have the board. Will you then stop scratching my wall?"  
Her spooky tormentor purred, dashing forward as soon as the board was on the ground. With a sound of delight, the tortoiseshell sunk its claws into the wood and started scratching.

* * *

When she returned from work the next day, there was a pink, slightly splotchy and dirty gift-wrap ribbon on the handle of the front door. Confused, she stuffed the ribbon in the pocket of her trousers and unlocked the door. Ninja sat in her most majestic pose on the floor of the vestibule. "Spooky thanks you for the new claw sharpener. The ribbon is part of the trade."

The cat owner looked numbly at her pet, then sighed. She had a feeling, this wouldn't have been the last 'trade'.  
"Also, the food needs a refill. Sloppy human."  
She groaned.


End file.
